


Support

by freosan



Series: FFXV D/sverse [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Corporal Punishment, Dominant Prompto Argentum, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 20:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freosan/pseuds/freosan
Summary: Gladio stays silent, just looking up at him with those molten amber eyes. Prompto never in his life thought that someone like Gladio would submit to him. Even if he’s just a stand-in for his real dom.“Strip and bend over the bed,” Prompto says.





	Support

“Hey Prompto, can you do me a favor?” Noct asks, a little muffled, since his head is buried in the spine of his organic chemistry textbook. 

Prompto looks up from his own physics homework. “Sure, buddy! Anything you need.”

Noct turns his head to the side so he can be heard clearly. “Gladio’s out of line,” he says. 

Prompto was kind of expecting _can I look at your notes from class_, and he sits up straighter. “And… what am I supposed to do about Gladio?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one with all the…” Noct waves his hand without lifting his head. “Toppy stuff.”

“He’s _your_ sub,” Prompto points out, hoping he doesn’t sound squeaky.

“He’s being a brat. Told me I was too lazy to be a dom. I told him to get over here and say it to my face, so you’ve got twenty minutes to figure something out,” Noct says.

“Fuck,” Prompto says, with feeling. “Okay, dude, but you owe me one.”

“Tell me you didn’t want a chance at him.”

“Yeah, but… ah, shit. Fine.” 

Prompto spends the next twenty minutes in frantic inventory of the toys that Noct keeps in his bedroom, as well as some panicked moogling. Noct isn’t a lot of help. He knows which of the toys Gladio likes and hates, so Prompto can choose a nasty looking studded paddle and be pretty sure he won’t be giving the big guy a reward, but aside from that he mostly just sits and stares at his textbook.

It’s really, really fucking tempting to tell Noct to go get his harness and go sit in the corner, but that’s _so_ not Prompto’s place - even if Noct has invited him into his sex life, more or less. Maybe later? Probably not. But it’d be satisfying, and Noct might even feel better.

The sound of the key in the lock comes one minute early. Gladio enters and toes his shoes off. He frowns when he sees the two of them sitting at the table, and the frown deepens when Prompto’s the one to stand up.

“Put your bag down and come here,” Prompto says. His voice wavers a bit, but Gladio drops his duffle bag by his shoes in the foyer, and walks over to Prompto. Fucking Astrals, he’s too tall.

“What’s this about?” Gladio asks. He crosses his arms, using every inch of his unfair height to look down on Prompto and Noctis both. Prompto tries not to let his dominant instincts rule him, he swears, but damned if he doesn’t want to grab Gladio’s collar and choke him for the insolence.

“You weren’t listening to me,” Noct says mildly, without even looking up. “So Prompto’s gonna help me out. He’s a _real_ dom, you know? Not a switch.”

Gladio makes a kind of growling noise and looks Prompto up and down, and then ignores him entirely, focusing on Noct again. “Come on, Noct, that’s not what I meant.”

“Sure sounded like it,” Noct says. He’s still looking at the textbook, totally impassive. Prompto didn’t know he had that much acting ability.

“So what, you’re gonna prove me right, then?” Gladio asks. He takes half a step forward, towards Noct, but he stops when Noct holds up his hand.

“Are you trying to get your ass beat?” Prompto asks in disbelief.

“He probably is,” Noct says. He drops his hand. “He likes showing off.”

That kinda figures, a tough submissive like Gladio. Prompto makes himself take a deep breath and slow down before he speaks again. “Showing off for you, or me?”

Gladio glances between the two of them, frowning.

“Answer him,” Noct says.

“I don’t need to show off for you.”

“Gladio. Get your ass on the floor right now,” Noct says sharply, just enough intent behind it that Prompto bristles. 

It must have some kind of effect on Gladio, too, because he’s going down on his knees even though he’s still scowling. Even kneeling, he’s barely shorter than Prompto, and Prompto has a moment of internal panic at the thought of trying to exert control over _that_. He knows, he _knows_ that a person’s size has nothing to do with their dynamic, but - fucking hell. It would be so much easier sometimes if it did.

“He’s all yours, Prompto.”

“What?” Gladio snaps. They both ignore him. Noct on purpose, Prompto figures, and Prompto because now he has to figure out what to do.

It’s fast to establish control with a smack or a yank, but it’s not like Prompto’s going to be able to keep Gladio in line physically, so he’ll have to save that for later. Okay, that’s fine. Just means he has to talk them both through this one. He reaches out for Gladio’s hair, pauses, looks at Noct.

“I can touch him, right?” he asks.

“Yeah. You can treat him like he’s yours,” Noct says. 

Gladio growls, low in his throat, but Prompto finishes his motion anyway, burying his fingers in Gladio’s thick hair. At least Gladio doesn’t move, either towards him or away. Prompto didn’t think Gladio would bite but it’s not a complete impossibility.

“I don’t know what Noct does with you,” he tells Gladio. “But you’re in trouble, so here’s the rules. Say ‘yes’ if you understand.” He thinks he’d have his sub call him _sir_, if he had one of his own. But telling one of Noct’s subs to do that… they call him _Highness_ when they’re on formal manners. Prompto’s not going to try to compete with that.

“Do you have a clue what you’re doing?” Gladio asks, and Prompto, entirely on instinct, backhands him across the face.

Gladio’s head jerks, his hair pulling through Prompto’s fingers, and he looks surprised and then smug. “So Noct doesn’t have a temper and you can’t control yours. Nice combination.”

Prompto’s hand balls into a fist all on its own, ready to put him back in his place, but - oh. Oh. 

“Noct wasn’t kidding, you really are looking to get beat, aren’t you?” he asks. This time, instead of pulling, he gives Gladio’s head a scratch, right behind the ear, like a cat. Gladio’s glare doesn’t lessen but he also doesn’t talk back, so that’s one for Prompto.

“So, rules. You’re gonna answer me when I ask questions, to start with. Just say yes or no. You got that?”

“Fine,” Gladio says.

Prompto smacks him again, more controlled this time, but it still leaves a pretty red mark on Gladio’s cheek. “I said ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Got that?” He tries to put whatever authority it is that Noct has into his voice, and thinks he halfway succeeds.

“Yes,” Gladio says. He looks kind of confused that he said it. Fuck. Prompto always figured Noct would have his subs better trained than this, if he’s being honest. They always act like it. Most of the time they act like it. Not that Prompto really knows what it’s like to train somebody, but he did an awful lot of reading when he figured out his dynamic. And one of the first things everybody says is you don’t let your sub get away with any of the little shit, because they’ll start testing the boundaries and then neither of you are happy.

“That’s more like it,” Prompto says, so Gladio’s eyes stop drifting off him and over his shoulder, where Noct sits. “Uh-uh, big guy. I’m not done with you. Do you know why Noct’s mad at you?”

“Yes,” Gladio says, which Prompto feels like is another point in his favor.

“Okay, tell me why.”

“‘Cause he can’t handle hearing he’s no good at this,” Gladio says. One point Gladio. Dammit. He tenses up under Prompto’s hand, like he’s ready for another blow. 

“I’d hit you again but I’m pretty sure that’s what you want,” Prompto says instead. “Seriously, dude? You’re already in trouble and that’s where you’re gonna go?” It’s freaky, how easily he can feel his role settling over him. He’s never gotten the chance to really dominate somebody before - helping out the sub girls in his class doesn’t count.

Gladio looks over his shoulder, again. Prompto scratches his head to keep his attention. “Hey. He handed you over, remember? Eyes on me.” 

Gladio’s attention snaps back to him. He stares and, fuck, okay, no, it’s not easy, what the fuck was Prompto thinking, he can’t handle that kind of look. He can’t figure out what it means, it’s just - way too much. He taps his fingers on Gladio’s head, trying to make it seem possessive rather than nervous.

“Want to try again?”

Gladio actually rolls his eyes. Before Prompto can decide whether to hit him again, though, he says, “Because I was disrespectful.”

Prompto looks over at Noct for confirmation, and Noct gives him a thumbs up. Huh. Cool, he got something out of this. He uses his palm on the side of Gladio’s face to tip Gladio’s head up, and Gladio lets him, which is a surprisingly nice feeling. Almost everything he’s saying is cobbled together out of teen magazines and half remembered stuff Noct’s said, but it’s working.

“Good,” he says, narrowly stopping himself from saying ‘good boy’. You can’t just _say_ that kind of stuff to somebody else’s sub. “You know I’m gonna have to punish you for it.”

“Figured you’d try.”

“And I figured I’d have to beat that out of you. You’re up to ten, so you know.” He’s pulling that out of his ass, but he thinks he sounds confident enough about it. 

Gladio doesn’t question the number, anyway. “Do you even know how to handle a whip?” he asks instead.

“Fifteen, and I’m not gonna use a whip.”

“You know I won’t feel your hand.”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty what?” Gladio demands.

For a sub, Gladio’s pretty persuasive. Prompto has to stop himself from blurting out the answer. Instead he strokes Gladio’s hair again, and says, “Twenty-five.”

Gladio lets out a long, annoyed sigh, but he stops talking, and that’s all Prompto really wanted. In the silence, he hears Noct pick up his pencil and start writing. Gladio… doesn’t flinch, exactly, but he kind of pushes his head into Prompto’s hand.

“C’mon, big guy,” Prompto says. “Let’s go back to the bedroom. Let Noct get his homework done.” He tugs gently on Gladio’s hair, and Gladio’s falling forward onto his hands and knees before Prompto even knows what’s happening.

Ifrit’s ballsack, he has an Amicitia crawling for him. His heart skips a beat and then starts going twice as fast. He cannot fuck this up, he cannot fuck this up, he’s gonna fuck this up….

He leads Gladio into the bedroom without fucking it up, and he holds Gladio’s hair for a few breaths, and when Gladio tries to shake his grip off he doesn’t even have time to think about fucking it up, he just grabs and twists and _pulls_ and Gladio freezes with his hand halfway to his head and a snarl on his face.

“Do you just not know how to behave?” Prompto demands. “Does Noct let you get away with this shit?”

There’s no answer, but Prompto’s done with waiting for Gladio to work with him. It feels weird grabbing his collar, but he does it anyway, the metal smooth and warm in his fingers as he tugs it forward. And Gladio… goes, arching into an awkward position as Prompto pulls his neck forward and his hair back. Prompto’s breath catches. Fuck, that’s a trip.

“You know how - how I can tell you need this? You’re not fighting me,” Prompto says, nervous and tripping over his words and it’s kind of a guess but the way Gladio’s eyes get wider, he knows he’s right. “You keep mouthing off but you could throw me out the window if you felt like it. But you know you’re about to get beaten so you’re letting me do it.”

Gladio stays silent, just looking up at him with those molten amber eyes. Prompto never in his life thought that someone like Gladio would submit to him. Even if he’s just a stand-in for his real dom. 

“Strip and bend over the bed,” Prompto says, not quite believing that those words are coming out of his mouth. He tugs on Gladio’s collar a bit before he lets him go.

Gladio stands up and strips without ceremony. He’s not wearing much - tank top, belt, jeans. No underwear, and Prompto swallows as that becomes obvious. Gladio has a great ass in anything he wears, but Prompto’s never seen it bare before, and he has to take a second to appreciate the magnificence. 

Gladio bends forward, his legs straight, elbows on Noct’s huge, perfectly made mattress, head still up and looking forward at the wall like he’s gonna wear a hole through it. Defiant. What Noct thinks Prompto’s going to do with that - no, Prompto’s gotta think past that. He can’t be service topping for Noct here; he’s got to do this right.

He picks up the paddle, tapping it against his hand in thought, and gets to see Gladio’s spine go stiff. Good, he thinks, feeling an answering thrill run through his own nerves. He walks around to the front of the bed, slow, measured, like he’s seen doms do in movies.

Gladio doesn’t act like the subs in movies, though. Instead of bowing his head in apology, he just meets Prompto’s eyes as he comes into view.

“What’s the matter, big guy? Scared?” Prompto teases, just to see what Gladio’ll do.

He doesn’t move, at least. “Of you? Like hell.” But his eyes flick down to the paddle in Prompto’s hands. “Haven’t had that one in a while.”

“Yeah. Noct said you really hate it,” Prompto says. He lets the edge of it hit his palm with a satisfying smack. “Think you can take thirty of these?”

Gladio balks for a second; Prompto can see the nervousness flicker across his face before he masks it with a grin. “Whatever you can dish out, blondie.”

“Great!” Prompto chirps. He sounds like an idiot, he thinks, but he walks back around the bed before he smacks himself in the face, and that’s probably good enough. Not like Gladio is in any shape to be thinking critically, if he’s as bad off as Prompto thinks he is.

“Okay, so you’re gonna count for me,” Prompto says, taking a couple practice swats with the paddle at empty air. It makes a nice whistling noise and the muscles in Gladio’s shoulders tense. “Loud and clear, and if you miss one we’re going back to one.”

“Your arm’s gonna give out before my ass- ” Gladio starts to say. Prompto cuts him off by whacking him across both cheeks with the paddle.

It’s really fucking loud. If Prompto weren’t paying attention, he’d almost miss the grunt that escapes Gladio’s throat. He waits.

“That all you got?” Gladio says.

Prompto hits him again, harder this time. His hand stings from the recoil, but Gladio doesn’t have to know that. “That’s one,” he says.

Gladio says, in a tight voice, “One.”

_He’s yours_, some primal part of Prompto’s brain says. And he hits him again. Gladio’s “Two.” nearly makes Prompto moan.

They get up to fifteen before Gladio stumbles. He’s been really good about it, no stuttering or whining, but his breath catches on “fif-” and he doesn’t make it to the end of the word.

The rush of anger that hits him is shocking, and Prompto gives in to it and slams the paddle into Gladio’s ass again. “What did I say?” he demands, without giving Gladio space to answer. “Told you we’d start over. That’s five, six, seven -” Prompto lets the anger carry him to the next blow and the next, not giving Gladio time to recover and catch his breath, raising red welts on all the unmarked skin.

He keeps going until he hits fourteen, then stops, laying the paddle flat against Gladio’s ass. Gladio’s breathing hard and all his muscles are locked up tight, his shoulders and thighs shaking occasionally as he tries not to move. “Okay,” Prompto says, then has to stop. He’s breathless himself, though he feels a lot better having given Gladio what he earned. “Okay. Ready to try fifteen again?” 

Gladio’s head moves in a nod, but he doesn’t make a sound. Prompto reaches out with his free hand and runs it up Gladio’s ass to settle on the small of his back. “I need an answer, big guy.”

“Yes,” Gladio growls. Prompto pats him and steps back for the next strike. This time, Gladio grunts, but says “Fifteen” loud and clear.

After that Prompto slows down, making each strike harder and making sure to layer them one over the other, so Gladio gets no relief. Gladio’s voice wavers but he doesn’t fail again.

At “thirty”, Prompto lets the paddle drop on the bed next to Gladio, and of all things that’s what makes Gladio flinch. “It’s okay,” Prompto tells him. He feels charged up himself, almost a bit shaky from the head-rush of doing that to Gladio. “You’re done.”

Gladio’s hard. Prompto can’t help but notice, ‘cause there’d be no hiding that thing even in clothes. If Gladio were his, he thinks, he’d make him come, now that he’s taken his punishment. It’d make them both feel better. Maybe he’d have Gladio suck his cock and rub off on his boot, he bets that would be great.

Gladio isn’t his, so Prompto is nervous enough that it takes him a couple tries to touch him. Eventually he rests his hand on the small of Gladio’s back. Gladio’s head finally drops between his shoulders and he lets out a shuddery breath.

“You did good,” Prompto says. “Lie down, okay?” He punctuates that by pushing down on Gladio’s back. Gladio sways where he stands. It takes him a few seconds to figure out what Prompto’s going for, and let his shoulders and thighs relax enough to drape himself over the bed.

Prompto sits down next to him and runs his hands over Gladio’s back, down the feathers of his new tattoo and over the reddened, bruised skin of his ass. Gladio groans quietly, shifting under Prompto’s hands, and Prompto shushes him and feels out the welts that he’s left on Gladio’s skin.

It’s peaceful and Prompto would love to stay like this, but Gladio isn’t done yet. He’s taken his punishment, but Prompto isn’t his dom. He can’t be the one to give forgiveness. So when Gladio’s breathing slows and he stops twitching at Prompto’s touch, Prompto gives his hair a few pets. “We should go see Noct,” he says.

Gladio’s shoulders go all tense again, and Prompto can’t help soothing him. “Shhh, it’s okay, big guy. I’ll tell him you took it. You’re ready to apologize, right?” he says.

Gladio nods, slowly. “Yes. Let’s go,” he says, a bit muffled by the blanket he’s got his face pressed into.

Prompto runs his fingers through Gladio’s hair one more time. “Okay. Get up, then. You can crawl.”

Gladio takes him up on it, slipping to his knees and waiting - _waiting_ \- to move until Prompto gets up too and tugs on his collar to bring him along. 

Noct puts his pencil down and faces them when they come back in. He doesn’t look at Gladio at all. “How’d it go?” he asks Prompto instead.

“He did good.” Prompto pats Gladio’s head. “I think he’s got something he wants to say.”

Noct folds his arms. “Oh yeah? C’mere, Gladio.”

Gladio glances up at Prompto, first, and Prompto wants to kiss him for that - kind of wants to kiss him anyway, since he’s being so, well, _good_. It’s a total change from when he walked in the door and Prompto’s kind of high on the fact that _he_ did that. Instead he cups his hand around the back of Gladio’s head and pushes him forward.

Gladio crawls across the floor to Noct and kneels up between his legs, while Noct bends down to hold his head in both hands. Prompto watches - he feels kind of like he’s intruding, but not enough to actually leave - as Gladio says something. It’s too quiet for Prompto to hear, but Noct grabs his collar and kisses him then, so he figures it must be “sorry”.

They talk for a minute, still quietly, and then Noct holds a finger over Gladio’s lips and looks up at Prompto. “Hey, Gladio wants to say thank you. Want to hang around for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, before he can think about it. He’s looking at Gladio again, still kneeling for Noct. Gladio’s barely moved but he’s watching Prompto, too, and Prompto shivers at the thought of having him between himself and Noct all compliant like this. “How’s he wanna say it?”

Noct smiles just a little. “However you want, pretty sure. Got an idea?”

“Lots,” Prompto admits. Noct laughs and beckons him over, and Prompto crosses the room to finally pull Gladio in for that kiss.


End file.
